


How Things Turn Out to Be

by pennysparkle



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:38:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennysparkle/pseuds/pennysparkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adachi isn't jealous, but he thinks he should ensure Dojima likes him more than Narukami - just in case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Things Turn Out to Be

"It's something to be proud of... congratulations," Dojima is saying, and Adachi just narrows his eyes as he watches Narukami smile and dip his head in thanks. He doesn't even  _say_ thank you; what kind of person does that? Doesn't he understand you're supposed to say thank you when you're congratulated?

And Dojima doesn't even seem to mind that he doesn't; he just smiles and reaches over to ruffle Narukami's hair, because apparently he's drunk enough to feel particularly fatherly toward him. Adachi hides the scowl on his face by chugging down several mouthfuls of his beer.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if Dojima would acknowledge him for more than a second before turning back to the kids. He's barely even looked at Adachi tonight; maybe that's not unusual, maybe Adachi just feels it more because he's had a few beers, but he's starting to get irritated. Doesn't this kid know where he stands?

He's not really interested in listening to Dojima and Nanako fawning over Narukami for his grades or whatever, so he turns to the TV. It's some variety show with irritatingly sweet idols, and he rolls his eyes at it but keeps watching anyway. Better than whatever they're talking about now, because they're still droning on as if he's not here at all. How very typical - and yet he's still angry about it.

He finishes that beer, and then another before he has to jump up and go to the bathroom, feeling hazy and wobbly on the walk over. What had he been so upset about again? It's hard to remember much of anything as he focuses on holding himself up enough to finish pissing and wash his hands.

There's no one in the living room but Dojima when he returns. He's on the couch as always, legs sprawled out, and Adachi suddenly feels a very firm desire to plop down on the floor and place his head in his lap.

"Geez, Adachi..." Dojima sighs, sounding very close to him. It isn't until he feels a hand in his hair, pushing him away, that he realizes he's actually done it.

"Dojima-saaan," Adachi whines, squinting one eye shut. The lights in here are too bright; he wishes Dojima would let him put his head back down.

"Be quiet, you're too loud."

"So?" If he were more sober, he might realize how petulant he sounds, but it doesn't seem to matter much right now.

"So keep it down. The kids have gone to bed."

"Hmm? I didn't notice."

"They've been gone for half an hour now," says Dojima, looking exasperated. He lets go of Adachi's hair to flick his pointer finger against his forehead in punishment. "You're a detective; pay better attention."

Without the hand holding Adachi's head back, it flops onto Dojima's thigh again. He turns his face to the side, looking up at the figure hovering blurrily above him. "Ehh... they're just kids. Who cares?"

Dojima frowns at him. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a kid to go to bed? Just keep it down. And stop rubbing your face on me... don't you have any shame?"

"What? I'm not doing anything..." But a glance at Dojima shows that he's flushed - maybe more than the last time Adachi had looked at him. And he hadn't drank anywhere near as much as Adachi had; he doesn't have any reason to look like that.

"Adachi..." Dojima says warningly.

"I'm just resting, it's fine."

"What's gotten into you? You ignored everyone all evening, but now you want attention?"

Oh. That's right. That's what had been happening. He feels irritable just thinking about the way they'd doted on Narukami, and rubs his face more deliberately against Dojima, inching closer to his crotch by the second. After all, he deserves some praise too, doesn't he? And he can do things for Dojima that Narukami never could.

Finally his lips come to rest against the fabric covering Dojima's cock. He presses them against him, nuzzling slowly, and Dojima lets out a long hiss of breath.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asks, voice low.

When Adachi responds, his lips brush against the fabric, and Dojima shudders underneath him. "Do you like me, Dojima-san?"

"What?"

"Do you like me, sir?" he asks again. He can't believe he's saying this; it's ridiculous, he's too drunk, he shouldn't be laying himself bare like this.

"Adachi-"

"Just answer me. Yes or no?" Adachi demands insistently.

Dojima looks annoyed, then resigned. "Do you think I'd let you hang around and mooch dinner off of me if I didn't?"

"Would you?"

"I like you just fine, Adachi."

"More than him?"

Dojima's eyebrows pull together in confusion. "More than  _who_?"

Adachi shakes his head. He's through talking and revealing too much, so he dips his head down and sloppily opens his mouth over Dojima's trousers, breathing hotly against the forming hardness underneath.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Dojima asks. Adachi nods, and one of Dojima's hands comes down to curl through his hair again as the other unbuttons his pants, dipping beneath the waistband of his underwear and drawing his cock out.

For a second, Adachi just stares. He hadn't really thought this through, had he? Of course something like this would come about after he'd been rubbing his face all over Dojima's crotch, deliberately saying that he was sure, but he hadn't really expected Dojima to let him get this far.

He wants it, though, doesn't he? He wants Adachi to give him this, and that makes Adachi suck up the courage to lean in and awkwardly lick the head of his cock. Above him, Dojima groans, his fingers pressing firmly into the base of Adachi's skull.

He knows he's going to be no good at this, and the several cans of beer only make that fact all the more clear, but he wraps his lips around Dojima's cock finally, mouth stretched by the thickness of it. Dojima isn't even fully hard yet; he wonders just how sore his jaw is going to get when that happens.

"You have to move, you know," Dojima says eventually. His voice is quiet, but there's some tone to it that almost makes it seem tolerant. A particular affection, reserved solely for Adachi.

Adachi hums, allowing more of his cock into his mouth. It feels odd and uncomfortable, and he probably wouldn't enjoy it at all if this weren't Dojima, but he lets it press against his tongue and force his mouth wide. When he glances up at Dojima's face, his lips are parted and his eyes half-shut, cheeks flushed, and best of all, he's looking straight at Adachi.

Awkwardly, he pushes Dojima's legs wider, settling himself more firmly and beginning to suck at him with actual focus, though it's difficult. Dojima groans, his hand petting the back of Adachi's neck, and he can feel his jaw already aching.

It only gets worse as his lips slide down further. There's too much saliva everywhere and he tries to swallow, but then that only makes him have to pull off and start coughing.

"Hey, take it slow," says Dojima. He cradles Adachi's head in his hands, looking at him like - like something Adachi's too drunk to identify, but he doesn't look at Narukami this way, and it's a good look, like the way Adachi looks at the best pieces of sushi before he swoops in to take them.

Adachi blinks back at him. It won't feel good if he goes slow, will it? Doesn't Dojima  _want_ to feel good?

"Here, do it like this." Dojima guides Adachi forward by the back of his neck, patient as he places his lips around his cock again. Then he presses him forward just slightly so that all Adachi has to do is take it, leaning against the fingertips supporting his head and pressing his tongue to the underside of Dojima's cock.

In a way, it's soothing; he can take his mind off of it and watch Dojima as he uses his grip on him to drag his mouth up and down, never quite giving him too much, but neither does he look dissatisfied. His breathing comes in short, even pants through his nose, because Dojima is so considerate that he'd never let him choke like this, even if his teeth are grit with pleasure and the desire for more.

It's something Adachi finds pleasant to look at. Dojima wants so badly, but he won't take advantage of Adachi. He's so careful with him, and it should feel infuriating, but it makes him more hard - and when did that happen? He feels arousal jolt up his spine when he starts rubbing his crotch against Dojima's leg, slow rocks of his hips that have him breathing harder around his cock.

"You really want it," Dojima says neutrally, his thumb brushing Adachi's bottom lip.

Adachi groans in response, his legs shaking as his cock twitches in his suit pants. He tries to tell himself that it's not about him - it's about how Dojima  _wants_ this from him, but for some reason he's the one panting for it, looking up at Dojima like he needs him to understand how important this is to him, that it's the best way to show how much better he can be than Narukami.

But Dojima doesn't see it. His fingers slide through the hair at Adachi's nape as he pulls him down onto his cock again, and Adachi can feel him shaking even just from that light hold. He likes it, hopes Dojima feels weak to look at him and see just what he's doing for him - though he realizes it isn't much, since Dojima is doing most of the work.

Still, he rubs his tongue against the heated length of Dojima's cock every time he shifts his head, grinds against his shin, keeps glancing up at him as a reminder, and Dojima's breath is getting shorter and shorter. It's not long before the grasp of his hand becomes more firm, though he's still careful to make sure Adachi can take what he gives. And he does, even if it feels uncomfortable, until Dojima lets out a grunt above him and pulls him off all of a sudden, leaving Adachi with his throat bared, wet, panting mouth still open for him.

"Can I come on you?" Dojima asks, looking uncomfortable. "I don't have to if you don't want me to."

"Go ahead, Dojima-san," Adachi says, smiling pleasantly up at him. Viciously, he thinks of Narukami - he'd never do this, wouldn't let anybody spoil his pristine appearance, and Adachi takes some guiding but he's just as pleasing -  _more_ pleasing - than Narukami in the end, isn't he?

Dojima jerks himself a few times and then he's coming, thick strands of it washing across Adachi's face. He nearly flinches away, but Dojima's hand in his hair keeps him in place until he's done.

"Come up here," he grunts finally, and Adachi trips over himself in his haste to get onto the couch, though one of Dojima's hands comes down to wrap securely around his arm. He pulls him into his lap, which is a strange, unsettling position for Adachi that he finds he doesn't particularly like. But soon, he's distracted with the way Dojima opens his trousers to reach in and pull his cock out, and he touches Adachi so surely that it doesn't take long for him to start pushing his hips up, right on the verge of coming.

"You know that doesn't work on me, right?" Dojima asks, wrapping his fingers tight around the base of Adachi's cock suddenly, a sensation that's almost painful.

"W-what? Let me come, Dojima-san..."

"You don't get to act like you suddenly want me, just because you're so used to taking up all my time and there's other people around now."

"I'm not-"

"You are; it's not going to work though. You know why?"

"Just let me come," Adachi breathes, bucking his hips up into Dojima's hand. He wants it so badly at this point - it's no fair that Dojima just stops when he sees fit. Adachi hadn't teased him like this.

"Because I'm not stupid. And you're not going to do this again. This is the only time, got it?"

"Sir-"

" _Got it_?"

"Yes!"

Dojima's hand starts to move on Adachi's cock again, at last. He gasps, forcing his hips up into the touch, and then he holds his breath as a pleasant flood of warmth rushes through his belly and he comes across Dojima's hand and his own shirt, almost shaking from the intensity.

Slowly, orgasm ebbs away, and he sinks onto the cushion next to Dojima, whose hands make quick work of his shirt and trousers, soon tossed onto the floor. Adachi can feel the couch shift as he stands, but he's back a minute later with a blanket, which he tosses over Adachi.

"Sleep it off," he says - there's none of that exceptionalism and fondness in his voice now, back to the old Dojima, and Adachi closes his eyes, sinking into the ease of drunken darkness before he can think better of what he's done.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is over [here](http://bunansa.tumblr.com), if you're interested.


End file.
